


A Christmas Movie

by WritingQuill



Series: 25 Days of Christmas Drabbles [25]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: A Christmas Carol, Cuddling, Established Relationship, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Sherlock hates Disney movies, Watching Movies, which is why John doesn't make him watch one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-25
Updated: 2012-12-25
Packaged: 2017-11-22 10:29:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/608845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingQuill/pseuds/WritingQuill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and John get back from having lunch at Mummy Holmes', and to stop Sherlock from sulking too much, John suggests they snuggle up to watch a Christmas movie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Christmas Movie

**Author's Note:**

> Day 25, word: christmas movie -- and we're done! 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading these! I really hope they made you smile at least a tiny little bit. 
> 
> Merry Christmas, if you celebrate it. Happy Tuesday, if you don't :)

The long dark coat hit the sofa with a thud. The gloves and the blue scarf followed. Sherlock Holmes stomped his way into the sitting room, flinging himself onto his chair and beginning to sulk. John Watson came right after him, glared at the mess on the sofa and glanced at the detective. 

‘It wasn’t so bad. I rather enjoyed it, actually,’ he said, toeing off his shoes and putting on the slippers that were tucked by the door. ‘The food was amazing.’ He smiled at Sherlock, who only growled back. John could not for the life of him understand what got Sherlock so annoyed on Christmas day when they went to Mummy Holmes’ house. It was always perfectly fine, the woman was a delight, and Mycroft made sure to not be a total dick for half a day. Besides, the food was incredible and the house was beautiful. John had a wonderful time. 

‘It was loathsome. It’s always loathsome. I despise that place and everything it stands for,’ Sherlock declared from his chair. ‘You know the only reason I go is because of Mummy. Now I know that you only go because of the food.’ 

John chuckled and walked over to Sherlock. He sat on the arm of his chair and put an arm around the detective’s shoulder. ‘You know that’s not true. I like spending Christmas with you, even if I do have to deal with six hours of more poshness than I can handle.’ That earned him a small smile from Sherlock, who nuzzled John’s stomach with his nose. He put a hand on John’s knee and rubbed circles with his thumb. 

‘We won’t go next year,’ Sherlock said. John tutted. 

‘You have to go, it’s your mother. You love her, I know you do.’ 

‘You never visit your mother,’ Sherlock challenged, sitting back a bit and staring at John defiantly. John smirked. 

‘That’s because my mother is the spawn of Satan, and I haven’t spoken to her since I left for medical school, Sherlock.’ He saw a shadow of concern cloud Sherlock’s eyes for a second and was quick to smile. ‘Which is fine. I never liked her, she only treated me and Harry horribly after my father died. She nearly kicked Harry out of the house when she came out, and I’m sure she would have had it been me. So, no, I don’t visit her at Christmas. But your mother is a lovely woman, who loves you and Mycroft very much,’ John leaned in and cupped Sherlock’s face with a hand. ‘But this isn’t about visiting Mummy is it?’ 

Sherlock sighed. ‘I liked it better when you used to be an idiot who couldn’t see things,’ he muttered and John giggled. 

‘Your own fault for teaching me to “observe”, now tell me.’ 

With another sigh, Sherlock snapped his eyes shut and swallowed — actions which meant, as John learned over the years, that he was about to say/do something sentimental and was bracing himself for the utter ridiculousness of it. ‘Fine,’ he began. ‘It’s not that I don’t want to visit Mummy, although not having to spend half a day with Mycroft would be much better, but I would much rather spend Christmas day… with… you.’ By the end, his voice was so low, John had to pay the closest attention in order to understand. When Sherlock finished speaking, John couldn’t help the widest grin from appearing on his face. 

‘You big sentimental lump,’ John said fondly, leaning in to kiss Sherlock. They sat on Sherlock’s chair — John was very uncomfortably seated, but as he had an armful of Sherlock it hardly mattered — and kissed for a long time, enjoying the taste of each other’s mouths and the feel of each other’s skins. 

After a few minutes of blissfully intimate snogging, they parted and John stood up. Sherlock groaned a whine. 

‘Where are you going?’ he asked, sounding a bit like a petulant child. 

‘Well, if we’re going to spend Christmas together properly,’ John winked. ‘Then we are doing it _properly_. So put on your pyjamas!’ 

‘What? Why?’ 

‘Christmas movie! It’s tradition! Normally when we get back from your mother’s, you go into a massive sulk in the bedroom, and I watch a Christmas movie by myself. Not this year. Go.’ 

Sherlock obliged — begrudgingly — and when he returned, there was fire in the fireplace, which made the whole room very warm and smell like home, and there was a comfortable-looking quilt lying on the sofa. John ran past him into the bedroom to change as well, and returned a couple of minutes later, wearing pyjama bottoms with a tartan pattern and a hideous — but endearing — Christmas jumper. 

‘Do you always go into this much preparation for a movie?’ asked Sherlock with a raised eyebrow. John shook his head and hugged Sherlock by the waist. 

‘Of course not, this is special,’ he said, nuzzling Sherlock’s chest. Sherlock felt warm all over, and not the ‘I-must-ravish-you-on-the-kitchen-table’ kind. It was something wonderful only John managed to do, make him feel wanted and needed and happy, truly happy, even when there were no cases and he was bored. The boredom wasn’t so crippling anymore, because he was content, and his brain was quiet. 

John brought over two steaming cups of tea and they both sat on the sofa, then John covered them with the quilt. Sherlock had his arm around John’s shoulder, and John rested his head on Sherlock’s chest. 

John then clicked the remote and started the movie. 

‘What are we watching, anyway?’ Sherlock asked.

‘They had A Christmas Carol on demand, so I thought we could watch that. You can be a real Scrooge sometimes,’ John said, beaming at Sherlock. 

‘Which version?’ Sherlock asked again, because he knew somehow that there was a cartoon version and he did not want to see that. John chuckled and squeezed him tighter around the waist. 

‘The old one, relax. I’m not forcing you to watch a Disney movie, Sherlock. Now shut up and watch.’ 

Sherlock smiled and kissed the top of John’s head. ‘Very well, then,’ he said. 

And with that, watching the movie, being warm, drinking tea and just being together, Sherlock Holmes and John Watson did indeed have a very merry Christmas.


End file.
